Presidential Debates
by PointYourFeetAndCAPsLetters
Summary: Maka is running for President against Kid, the current President. Narrorated by Stein, watch their debate that gets way out of hand. Created in light of the current election. T for swearing and a reference.


**Read!- This is in no way supposed to be offensive. If you are extremely into politics, then I do not suggest reading this. I would call it a parody of the presidential debates. It is not meant to offend anyone.**

**I also am not trying to rip on Romney or Obama. I just randomly gave Maka and Kid one of the colors. I didn't even vote in the election, so please don't go all politics on me.**

**Disclaimer- I do not own Soul Eater**

"**I've always said that in politics, your enemies can't hurt you, but your friends will kill you." –Ann Richards**

"We ended up with fewer jobs, less trade, and less money. All we had more of was debt," Maka argues. Her index finger finds Kid, "It's his entire fault. Your president has-"

"Now, Albarn, don't go lying blames here," Kid attempts a surrendering posture, but Maka only gets more irritated. "You don't know what it's like to be President."

"Obviously you don't either." Maka's face is a sharp mask of sass. Her red business suit seems to encourage the flames that dance behind her eyes and ignite her attitude. President Kid's blue suit and tie seem to be the water trying to tamper it.

The water isn't working.

Let me say, quickly, that I'm just a scientist. I don't know much about politics or government. I'm only here to record data and ask the debate questions. Why I was chosen is beyond me. I'd way rather be having parties with my prairie dogs- I mean slicing people up- than listening to them rant. Maka and Kid like to point fingers at each other and the words taxes, debt, and I'm a dumbass keep popping up.

Okay, so one of those might be in my head.

Kid's face scrunches up like a piglet, "what about education? What would you do about that if you became president?"

I cut in, "I thought I was supposed to ask the questions?"

Kid and Maka murder me with the looks they give me, so I just sit back and zip my mouth shut.

Literally. I added a steal sipper to my lips the other day. I look pretty hipster, if I do say so myself.

"Like Kid said way back when this debate started," Maka thinks it over, "an hour ago-"

"Two days," I correct, temporarily unzipping my lips.

Maka continues, ignoring me, "education is key. I agree. It will help build up our workers for more knowledge and less knuckle heads like Kid will take office after I become president."

Kid snorts, "Clueless."

Continuing, Maka checks her note cards and rants, "this will rebuild our Turkish stripper population and reproduce the amount of thongs tossed in my own microwave."

Cricket can be heard chirping among the shocked audience.

"WHO CHANGED MY NOTES?" Maka's scream almost sent me flying out of the chair. Good thing the big nail in my head is an anit-scream device.

Ow, ow…. Never mind. Delayed reaction. I feel like a sack of kicked balls.

A snicker is heard from over my shoulder. I glance over to see Soul, Maka's running mate, badly hiding a laugh.

"Soul, I will beat your 3333* into 3333* Narnia and 33333 with Britney Spears. Compared to this, you'll 3333*-" Maka moves to leave the podium but remembers at the last moment that she is on television.

Smoothing her hair and skirt, Maka smiles, strangely calm, and says, "What made you want to be president, Kid?"

"This is a debate, not 20 questions, we're supposed to debate over things…like why the other shouldn't be voted for…politics….rights and crap…" Kid says.

"Ah, but who are we kidding?" Maka bats her hand dismissively. "We both know that once we get into office that everything we said goes into the vomit bucket."

Kids face says he is trying to argue, but can't find anything to say against that.

Maka keeps talking, "Why do we want to be president anyways? The president is a scapegoat for all of our problems. Bad economy? President's fault. Robbery down the street? President's fault. Plugged toilet? President's fault. You need a thick skin for this business. Like a vampire. You're also trapped. What if you don't like the job? We're stuck here for four years anyways…. Unless you're impeached, but I am not stealing tax dollars to hire a personal Canadian bacon maker. The best bacon is made with your own swear."

"We aren't trapped," Kid helplessly throws in.

"Um, yes, we are." Maka puts her elbows on the podium and casually rests her head on her hand. I don't think that's really something a presidential candidate is supposed to do, but no one cares about the wack-o-doodle scientist's opinion. "We can't even leave here without the say of the dude who looks like Frankenstein."

It takes a second until I realize she's talking about me.

Kid sighs, "That's not true."

"Yes, it is." I'm starting to feel sorry for Mr. President. "You know it, you liar. You're such a liar!" That fire in Maka's eyes is back. "You lie about your vice-president. We all know that there are actually two of them, but they're just sisters. News flash, Kid, the Thompson sisters do not look alike. Or share similar names. People notice when one day the vice-president is tall with brown hair and named Liz then blonde, in giraffe footy pajamas, and calling herself Patty the next day."

"I-ah-well, you see, symmetry is essential. Without it the world is a bundle of imperfect heathens. Like you, Maka. Have you seen those pigtails? The one on the right is at least a half millimeter shorter than the left. Also…"

That's when I nodded off to sleep.

"Black Star, your god, has arrived."

I lift my head, wiping a bit of drool from my zipper teeth. My vision morphs slowly from blurry to clear as Black Star does a series of poses in front of Maka and Kid's podiums.

"Vote Black Star!"

Kid sighs, "How many times must I tell you, Black Star? You aren't running for President. And please get a star tattoo on the other bicep of yours. That is unsightly unsymmetrical."

Black Star doesn't notice Kid, instead continuing to prance around the stage. I wonder how he got here, but no one seems too worried about it so I'll leave it alone. Maka sits into her hip, watching with an amused look.

Suddenly, Black Star stops stomping around. He murmurs, "aw, crap, I gotta piss," just loud enough for the camera on my right to hear. I share a look with the camera man before watching in awe as Black Star turns his back to the audience.

The sound of a zipper getting pulled down is heard equivalent to a pin drop.

Yellow liquid fills the floor.

Maka turns away, repulsed.

Kid mutters, "at least something about him is symmetrical."

Black Star zips his fly and turns back to the audience, announcing, "Your god has left his markQ:

Black Star trots away, leaving everyone staring at the bright yellow spot.

"This is why Kid is a knuckle head," Maka chirps. "He knows the name of poor mentally insane children like that… Hey, your name is Kid. Like a kid. So, you are forever young. Immortal. That's no good. I'll never win the lottery with those odds."

That's when I notice the bags under Maka and Kid's eyes. Standing up, I yell, "That's good, time to go!"

Maka is out the door, screaming, "Fuck this, I need to change my underwear," before I even reach the stage.

Kid looks at me and says, "I want you to be president."

"In a shocking turn of events, the new president of the United States is…. Black Star, along with vice-president….Black Star? Kid, what do you have to say about this?

"He better install more bathrooms."

***not suitable for nation television **


End file.
